


Deck the halls with piles of bodies

by CandyCanine



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Christmas Party, Crack, Drunk Shenanigans, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyCanine/pseuds/CandyCanine
Summary: Under the flag of truce the courier invites to a Christmas party in the Luck 38. Veronica makes the punch. It goes as well - or as bad - as expected.
Kudos: 8





	Deck the halls with piles of bodies

It was a bit awkward at first. The NCR people were standing in one corner – metaphorically speaking, of course, as the Cocktail Lounge of the Lucky 38 was round and thus, had no corners – the Legion guys in the other, both parties eyeing each other distrustfully over their drinks. A few Brotherhood paladins had obviously surrendered to the slightly bizarre circumstances and had settled down around a table where they made short work of the cheese crackers.

Drinks were abundant, however, and shortly after Boone and Raul had hauled the large bowl with the punch in, the atmosphere began to loosen a bit. Maybe there was a touch too much vodka in the punch, although Veronica had insisted she knew exactly how to make a perfect punch. It hadn’t been that funny at that time. It certainly was now, two hours into the punch bowl. 

Christmas crackers popped and crackled everywhere while the courier ran around, making sure everyone had enough to drink and keeping everyone from each other’s throat. She passed a group of NCR soldiers, namely Moore, Hsu and Boyd, sitting in a circle on the ground with a few Brotherhood members, all of them wearing little paper hats, while a Brotherhood scribe popped a Christmas cracker.  
He stared at the little piece of paper and squinted. Moore took a sip of her punch.  
“What do you call a crazy golfer?”  
The NCR people exchanged a few looks and shrugs.  
“A crazy put!”  
Moore spat a bit of punch into his face and broke out into a drunken laugh while Hsu and Boyd rolled their eyes and groaned, not having had enough punch yet.

The courier found Vulpes standing with his back to a wall, arms crossed and the bright yellow paper crown on his head looking slightly out of place, what with him still wearing his crimson legion attire.  
“Isn’t it lovely that at least during Christmas time we can all forget our differences and be glad?”  
Vulpes lifted his eyebrows. “Forget is maybe saying a bit too much. Ignore, maybe, and only at the orders of Caesar himself.”  
“Oh come on, don’t be a party pooper, V!” The courier hooked her arm through his and he let himself be dragged along with a resigned sigh towards the punch bowl where Caesar and Cassidy were presently were busily sampling its contents.  
“You know”, Cass slurred, draping an arm around Caesar’s shoulders. “You aint’ half bad a guy when you ain’t trying to crucify someone.”  
Caesar emitted a hearty, if a little high pitched chuckle and tried to tickle Cassidy under her chin. She broke out into a screeching cackle and half-heartedly slapped his hands away. “I ain’t that kind of girl, mister.”  
Casear leaned over and whispered something into her ear, causing Cassidy to giggle in a frequency that would have made a dog whine. It made both Vulpes and the Courier wince.

“The punch is maybe getting a bit out of hand”, the courier muttered and turned around when someone tapped her shoulder to be hit in the face by the tip of a hooting party blowout. She took a small step back and let the two legionaries pass by, hooting and laughing as they stumbled past.  
“A bit?”, Vulpes asked, but before the Courier could reply, Veronica appeared and clamped her vice of a grip around both Vulpes’ and her arm.   
“Come on!”, she piped. “We’re playing spin-the-bottle!”  
“I don’t...”  
“Come on!”  
Vulpes and the courier exchanged a glance behind Veronica’s back, but there was no escaping that grip.

She dragged them towards a cleared space where several people were sitting in a circle, namely Cass, Caesar (sitting side by side), Colonel Moore, Scribe Ibsen, Benny (batting his eyelashes at Moore who remained completely oblivious) and now Veronica, Vulpes and the Courier.  
“Vulpes!” Caesar hollered. “Great sport of you to join us!”  
“Of course”, Vulpes replied smoothly as he knelt down, as sitting cross-legged like the others was out of question with his kilt.  
“How does this game work?” Caesar looked at the empty beer bottle standing in the middle of the circle.  
“Easy”, Veronica said. “We spin the bottle, and whomever it points at has to... are we playing truth or dare?”  
“Yes!” Moore clapped her hands.” Truth or dare!”  
“Fine. So whomever the bottle points at has to choose truth or dare. Either answer a question truthfully or do a deed.”  
“Caesar took a sip of his punch. “Who asks the question?”   
“We start with... uhm...”  
Cass leaned forward and spun the bottle. It came to rest on Scribe Ibsen. “He starts.”’  
“Good.” Veronica flashed Ibsen a sweet smile and gestured at him to go ahead. “Spin the bottle.”  
Ibsen did as he was told and the bottle came to point at Cass.  
“Then you have to ask truth or dare”, Veronica said helpfully.  
“Right.” Ibsen cleared his throat. “Truth or dare?”  
“Dare!” Cass giggled and knocked back her punch. “I ain’t no sissy!”  
“Then you have to make something up Cass will have to do.”   
“Uhm.” Ibsen scratched his head. “Ah...”  
“Something silly”, Veronica fell in. “Something really embarrassing.”  
“Uh... then... ah... I’m afraid I’m not good at this.”  
“Bullshit!” Cass produced a noisemaker and hooted. “Your time’s up!”  
“No it isn’t!”  
“Yes it is!”  
“No, there’s no time limit!” Veronica looked at the courier for support. “Is there?!”  
“Ah... not that I know of”, the Courier replied a little hesitatingly.  
“See.”  
Cass pouted.  
“Okay. Then you... ah... wave your arms and cluck like a chicken.”  
“What?”  
“You heard him, Cass!”  
Cass stood up and waved her arms, looking completely bedevilled. She waved her arms around and then scratched her head. “What the fuck is a chicken?”  
Everyone groaned.

“Next!” Caesar waved his hands. “This is bullshit. Who’s next?”  
“Cass”, Veronica said. “Come on.”  
Cass spun the bottle and it came to halt pointing at Vulpes.  
Caesar and Cass both simultaneously broke out into a laugh. “Truth or dare?”, Cass snorted after catching back her breath.  
“Truth.”  
“Slowpoke.” That was Benny.  
Vulpes crossed his arms.  
“Right.” Cass looked into her empty cup, shrugged and looked at Vulpes again. “Whatcha wearing under that kilt of yours?”  
Vulpes rolled his eyes. “Nothing.”  
Every female in the circle, even Veronica, howled or emitted wolf-whistles at that.  
“You can only choose truth once, then you have to do a dare”, Veronica threw in helpfully, a slightly evil grin on her face.  
“Isn’t it three times?” Cass scratched her chin.  
“No, that’d be too boooring.”  
“M’kay.”  
Vulpes’ face betrayed nothing.

“Your turn to spin!” Cass stood up and took both her and Caesar’s cup to the punch bowl for a refill while Vulpes shook his head and leaned forward to spin the bottle. It came to rest on Caesar himself.   
Vulpes looked as if sheer force of will kept him from blushing. “Ah... truth or dare?”  
“Dare!”  
Cass came back, chuckling and almost spilling the punch as she sat down. Caesar took his cup from her, winked and fortified himself with a sip. Everyone stared expectantly at Vulpes who looked as if he was about to bolt.  
“Well?” His lord and master crossed his arms.   
Somewhere in the lounge a noise maker hooted amidst the giggling of party guests who had underestimated Veronica’s punch. The people in the circle were slowly becoming restless.  
“Oh come on, Vulpes, I won’t bite your head off!”  
Vulpes took a deep breath. “Then you shall recite a poem. In Latin.”

Caesar blinked a few times, took a deep breath, and swore under his breath. Everyone laughed.  
“Oh well, oh well.” The Leader of the Legion stood up and spread his arms, imitating the pose of an opera singer. He cleared his throat and directed his speech at Cassidy who blushed despite not understanding a single word.

“Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,  
rumoresque senum severiorum  
omnes unius aestimemus assis!  
soles occidere et redire possunt:  
nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,  
nox est perpetua una dormienda.  
da mi basia mille, deinde centum,  
dein mille altera, dein secunda centum,  
deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum.  
dein, cum milia multa fecerimus,  
conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,  
aut ne quis malus invidere possit,  
cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.”

“Aaww...” Veronica clapped her hands and everyone fell in. “How... sweet, I hope.”  
Caesar bowed and sat down again to reach for the bottle that came to rest pointing at the courier.  
“Hah! Truth or dare?”  
“Truth!!” The courier nervously threaded her fingers.  
“Very well. Which of the men here present would you kiss if you had to choose?”  
Veronica shrieked in joy. “That’s the spirit!”  
The courier face-palmed and shook her head. “None.”  
“No, that doesn’t count!”, Cass yelled. “You gotta chose one!”  
“Here in this circle?”  
“Yes.”  
The courier looked around. The alternatives were a jagged Benny, a sauced Scribe Ibsen, a shit-faced Caesar... and Vulpes. She wordlessly jerked her thumbs at the only sober man in the circle in hopes he would understand and endured another round of howls and wolf-whistles.

The courier then spun the bottle and it was Benny’s turn who chose a dare and was condemned to walk through the whole lounge and give every man a kiss on the hand. The courier had a score to settle, after all. When Benny spun the bottle, it pointed at the courier again.  
Everyone but the courier and Vulpes laughed.  
“Haha! Baby doll, this is the moment I’ve been waiting for!”  
The courier looked panicked.  
“You gonna go to the punch bowl and drink three cups of the stuff! Chug-a-lug, baby!”  
“Oh no...”  
“Oh yes!”  
Everyone laughed again.

After the deed was done, the courier sat down, her head beginning to spin ever so slightly. There was definitely too much vodka in the punch. She spun the bottle and it came to rest on Vulpes.  
“There’s other people who want to play along, too!”, Cass muttered.  
“It’s not my fucking fault!”, the courier snapped.  
Vulpes emitted a little, fatalistic sigh after exchanging a look with his lord and receiving an amused, but stern glare. “I guess it will be dare this time.”  
“Damn right it will”, Cass cackled and Caesar chuckled while the two toasted each other.  
The punch having now reached her brain, the courier shrugged and smiled. “Why should you be any better off than me? Three cups, chug-a-lug.”  
Vulpes smoothly got onto his feet and followed his orders. Coming back he sat down again with a face that made it clear he wasn’t very fond of punch. 

The game continued with Ibsen having to carry Veronica piggy-backed, Veronica having to kiss Benny, Moore putting a sock on her head, the courier admitting that the worst blow to her vanity had been discovering her hair had been shorn off after waking up in Doc Mitchell’s clinic and Cass revealing that she had lost her virginity standing up with her back against a dumpster in a back alley of Reno.  
Cass spun the bottle.  
It pointed at the courier. Again.  
“I hate this game.” She also hated punch, the stuff had lodged itself into her brain and made her feel fuzzy. “I know what’s going to happen now.” She looked at Vulpes who had the faintest flush on his cheeks and a very slight, punch-induced smile that he was trying to suppress.  
“Hahaa!” Cass giggled, pointing at Vulpes. “Kiss him!”  
The courier and Vulpes exchanged a look and simultaneously shrugged. With a sigh, the courier leaned over and pecked a hasty kiss on his cheek.  
“Oh no. Nonononono. That doesn’t count!” Cass waved her arms.   
“But I...”  
The whole merry circle erupted in a storm of protest.  
“No way!”  
“Oh come on, baby doll, you can do better than that!”  
“It’s a disgrace, is what it is!”  
“Chicken!”  
“Come on, sweetheart, you know that doesn’t count!”

The courier looked at Vulpes again. Vulpes smirked and shrugged again. Resigning into her fate the courier shrugged and leaned forward to touch his lips with hers. To her surprise they were warm and soft. They also tasted faintly of punch, as did his tongue. A cacophony of cat-calls, jeers and whistles tore her back into reality and she jerked back with a fierce blush on her face. Vulpes cocked one eyebrow but said nothing. 

After rallying herself the courier took the bottle and the game resumed with Ibsen having to make publicly known that he preferred boxer shorts over briefs, Moore admitting she had sexual fantasies of men in power armour, Benny announcing that if he really would have to fuck the Courier now he’d use doggy style (which earned him a few howls and cat-calls too), the Courier revealing after being asked whom she had given a blowjob that she had in fact never given anyone a blowjob yet. After that, Caesar had to perform a belly-dance. When he spun the bottle, it pointed at Vulpes.  
“Truth.”  
“You’re a drag, you know that, Vulpes?” Caesar grinned. “When was the last time you jerked yourself off?”  
This time, he did blush.   
Cass snorted. Veronica tried to stuff a giggle back in with pressing her hands to her mouth, remaining unsuccessful. Benny grinned shamelessly, Ibsen choked on his drink and the courier blushed almost as hard as Vulpes did.  
“Come on now.” Caesar flicked a hand. “We ain’t got all night.”  
“I can’t remember.”  
“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”,Cass and Veronica yelled at him practically simultaneously before breaking out into a giggle.  
“Roughly three weeks ago”, Vulpes said then.  
“And who’ve you been thinking of?”  
“You shall have to wait until the next opportunity arises.”  
“Hmpf.” Caesar emptied his cup but rules were rules.

The Courier noticed the noise on the other side of the lounge increase and saw, after craning her neck, that a few Legionaries, NCR soldiers and Brotherhood paladins had taken some of their respective comrades onto their shoulders and now they played a – as of yet – peaceful game of pushing your adversaries off their respective mounts’ shoulders. Watching them, the courier could only hope things remained peaceful.

After that, Cassidy had to fetch drinks for everyone in the circle by carrying the cups on her head, one after another. It took quite a while, and even if that meant Vulpes had to drink another cup of the dreadful punch, the expression on Cassidy’s face as she tried to balance cup after cup on her head was well worth it.  
Cass spun the bottle, and it pointed at the courier. “Dare!” She chuckled in glee. “Daahaare!”  
The Courier rolled her eyes.  
“Okay. Okay. This is perfect.” Cass took a hasty sip of her drink. “You gotta check if Vulpes has been telling the truth about what’s under his kilt!!”  
“No”, both the courier and Vulpes said simultaneously.  
The circle around them erupted into dirty laughter.  
“That’s going too far”, the courier said.   
Vulpes meant to say something too but was stopped when his lord gave him a long, glowing stare. To get it over with, he took the courier’s hand and unceremoniously shoved it under his kilt, on the side of the thigh, the least compromising spot. Everyone howled and whistled as the courier blushed a dark crimson. Vulpes himself didn’t look much better.  
“That does it”, the courier said and got up, swaying a little after the fourth cup of punch. “I’m out of here.”  
“HEY!” Cass threw her hat down beside her. “You gotta at least tell if he said the truth!”  
“He did!” the courier yelled back and stomped off, ignoring the howls and jeers.

After skirting around a group of arm-wrestling NRC soldiers and Legionaries, the courier found Boone and Raul in a corner, sitting side by side on a sofa, their feet on a table, sharing a bowl of potato crisps while making peaceful love to a few bottles of beer. 

Behind her, the door of the elevator opened with a ding and a deep, dark voice from the seventh level of hell, by the sound of it, roared loud enough to make the window panes vibrate: “THERE’S COOOOKIIIIEESS EVERYONE!! COME AND GEEET THEEEEEEEM!!!!”  
The lounge erupted into a stampede and Lily had a hard time keeping all those youngsters in check, whacking fingers and telling everyone if they didn’t behave there would be no more cookies. A legionary and a paladin ended up at each other’s throat about the last chocolate chip cookie and Lily pulled them apart by their scruffs, told them to share and be friends again and since no one in his right mind who is faced by a seven feet apparition from hell with a known mental instability put up resistance they agreed, shook hands and broke the cookie in half.

The courier dropped onto the couch beside Raul and shook her head with a groan. “Worst idea ever had”, she muttered.  
“What?” Raul offered her the bowl and she grabbed a large handful of crisps that she shoved into her mouth. “The Party?”  
“No”, the courier mumbled around a mouthful of potato crisps while her blush slowly faded. “Letting Veronica make the punch.”


End file.
